The Languages Lesson
by Jingle For Goldfish
Summary: Char didn't do his homework… uh-oh.


_Another Ella Enchanted oneshot. :) I think there's a lot of potential in the book for short little scenes like this. Char as a young'un. I'm still trying to figure out Jerrold's character… This might be a little closer than what I've done in the past._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

My Languages lesson had been sitting unattended in my chambers for the better part of the day, now. Father had asked me to do it that morning, and I had sat down immediately to begin, but just at that moment, my friends Jasper and Theodore began calling my name from the courtyard below. They said they had something to show me by the river, so I followed them, but the quick distraction became a treasure-hunting adventure that lasted well into the afternoon. Before I knew it, I was sitting down to supper with Father (Mother was in Bast for the day), the lesson still unfinished on my desk.

A servant deposited our meals before us. Usually, Father wanted to know everything about my lessons, but perhaps he wouldn't ask today. I crossed my fingers and turned my attention to my supper.

Almost immediately, Father asked, "Did you finish your Languages lesson?"

I paused only a moment in cutting my veal. "Yes." I could always finish it after supper. Father would never know.

He nodded. "How did it go?"

"Just fine."

"Sir Bradley tells me you've just started on Ayorthaian."

Of course, I hadn't read the lesson, so I couldn't have known, but I had committed to my lie. "Yes."

"Is it very difficult?"

I shrugged. "It isn't so bad."

"What did you learn?"

Damn. I stuffed a potato wedge into my mouth. "Hmmm," I said, gesturing at myself with my fork.

Father looked at me and cocked his head slightly. I chewed very slowly, hoping he would move on, but he only watched patiently.

The potato had nearly dissolved in my mouth, but nothing had come to me. I was forced to swallow. "Um," I said. "_Ubensu ockommo Ayortha_?"

"Yes, but you learned that this summer, when we visited Ayortha." There was an edge to Father's tone. "I want to know what you learned _today_. Sir Bradley said there was a phrase you were to memorize."

"Um," I said again. My mind was blank. What else had I learned in Ayortha? Something Father didn't know about? I wracked my brain, but it was useless. There was simply nothing there. I had one last chance. Father knew some Ayorthaian, but he certainly wasn't fluent. Perhaps he wouldn't notice if… I invented? "Oh," I said. "I remember. It was: _Odwalla… albesoni… jongorial… _uh, _simpsum_."

His expression was impossible to read. "And what does that mean?"

"Uh—It means… I am… very… hungry. Uh, today."

I had made the wrong decision. Father's mouth became a tight line, and color tinged his face. "That is interesting," he said in a cold voice, "because when _I_ was in Ayortha, we said it quite differently. What's more, if you in fact _had_ finished your Languages lesson—which I am beginning to suspect you did not—you would realize that none of those words could ever be found in the Ayorthaian vocabulary, as every Ayorthaian word ends with the same letter it begins with—indeed, the same vowel sound."

There was no good way to respond. I only stared at my lap and said quietly, "Oh."

"Now I'm going to ask you again, and this time, you will tell me the truth. Did you or did you not finish your Languages lesson?"

I drew a quavering breath. "I didn't."

"I told you to do it this morning."

"Well, I started it, but… but Jasper and Theodore were outside, and I only wanted to see them… and I suppose I got distracted, and… I never finished."

Father took a deep breath, which he huffed out again impatiently. "When I tell you to do something, young man, I expect it to be done. Not when it's convenient for you, but immediately." I could feel his eyes on me from across the table, but I couldn't bring myself to meet them. "I am not a man to be disobeyed, and I am _certainly_ not one to be lied to."

I hung my head.

"You will put down your fork, go straight to your chambers, and finish your Languages lesson. You can go without supper tonight. If it isn't done by the morning, you'll go without breakfast, too."

I was instantly starving. I had barely started my meal. I slowly put down my fork and pushed away from the table.

"And the next time you try to lie to me," he added curtly, "I'm going to give you something you'll really feel, and that's a promise. Do I make myself clear, young man?"

"Yes, sir."

"Upstairs."

Feeling horrible, I slunk out of the dining hall and up the stairs to my chambers. I couldn't remember ever having disobeyed my father before—although, admittedly, I had told a few white lies that had so far gone undetected. My stomach rumbled as I sat down to my desk. I wasn't entirely sure what he meant by _giving me something I'd feel_, but if it was supposed to be a punishment, it couldn't be pleasant. In any case, I had no interest in finding out.

The lesson was not, in fact, difficult, and I completed it in the space of half an hour. I felt foolish for having neglected it all day.

As I was climbing into bed, there was a soft knock on the door. It was Father. He held a steaming mug in his free hand. "Have you finished?" he said.

"Yes."

"And the phrase?"

The words rolled easily off my tongue. "_Abensa utyu anja ubensu_."

Father smiled. "_Abensa utyu anja ubensu_." He sat beside me on the bed. "Your mother has reminded me that you are a growing lad and require your nutrients. I suppose you've learned your lesson?"

I nodded vigorously and reached for the mug, but he held it beyond my reach.

"And that is…?"

"To obey you. And not to lie."

He nodded. "Why?"

I paused. This had not come up over supper. "Or else… you'll give me something I'll feel?" I ventured.

He laughed. "No," he said, and his face became serious. "It's because I'm your father, Char, and I care about you. It's so I can believe that when I tell you to do something, you'll do it, even though you may not understand why. I need to make sure you'll be safe, and that you grow up to be a mature, responsible prince."

Whatever was in the mug smelled delicious, and my stomach was making noises. I nodded again and absently licked my lips.

"Do you understand me, Char?"

"Yes, sir."

He stared hard at me for a moment, then he heaved a sigh and his face broke into a smile again. "I know," he said. "It's hard to understand when you're young, but you are going to have to trust me when I say it's for your own good." He offered me the mug, which I accepted greedily. It was some kind of vegetable stew. Not my first choice, but it was food, and I was thankful for it.

Father pointed at me. "Now, don't think I'll go this easy on you the next time you break the rules," he said. "I made you a promise today that I intend to keep, so you had just better watch your step."

"You mean you'll give me something I'll feel."

"That's right."

I wrinkled my brow. "Father… what does that mean?"

Father laughed again, cocked his head, and regarded me curiously. "Stand up," he said. "And set down the mug."

I obeyed, feeling slightly nervous. He took me around the waist, bent me forward slightly, and then delivered three smart swats to the seat of my pants.

"Ah!" It was more a cry of shock than one of pain. He straightened me back up. "That's what it means," he said. "Only it usually hurts quite a bit more."

My eyes got big. "Oh," I said. "Well, I'm never going to disobey you again."

He grinned, although I failed to see what he found so amusing. "Let's hope not," he said. He handed me the mug and ruffled my hair. "Drink that up," he said, "and then straight to bed. It's already late."

I nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir."

He smiled again. "Good night, Char."

"Good night, Father."

The minute my mug was empty, I was under the covers and nestling into my pillow. I thought about how badly I had felt this evening, and how the _something I'd feel_ was likely to feel if it ever happened for real, and even the boring part about how I was supposed to grow up to be responsible. I had no intention of ever disobeying my father again, and I kept that promise to myself for the rest of my life.

…Well, at least _most_ of the time.


End file.
